Friends In Weird Places
by Fenris's Slytherin Princess
Summary: An argument leads to a snooze in the bed belonging to the Head Boy! What is Hermione thinking? Goodness knows. Draco's POV, talk of sex, no swearing, nothing explicit. Kind of Fluff!


The Great Hall was cold on the first day of the Christmas holidays, and dozens of children were flocking out of the hall to board the train, suitcases in hand, and various magical creatures trailing behind or in front of them. As Head Boy, it was Draco's duty to stay behind and look after the school in the absence of Headmistress McGonagall, who was visiting friends in the South of France. He prowled the corridors just out of the Great Hall in search for troublemakers, but found none. In the end, as the darkness rolled over the castle, Draco decided to go back up to his Head of School tower to rest. He had a large potions essay due in for January, and he really _did _want to get it done before any festivities started. He had just slid into an emerald green sitting chair, squashing a black cushion in the process, when he heard the first door slam. "Hermione!" An unfortunate soul, was Ronald Billius Weasley; he was trying to win his now ex-girlfriend back after he cheated on her with goodness knows who. "But I love you, 'Mione!"  
"Shut up, Ron!" A second door slammed, then opened again, with trouble, by the sounds of the metallic scraping of locks and loud cursing. Draco heard Hermione's footsteps up the first set of stairs, and assumed she stopped in the main living area. She didn't.  
"Hermione, please!" Ron pleaded, and stomped up the stairs. Draco sighed, and summoned his leather bag from across the room to get his quill and parchment. Draco heard light, fast footsteps and knew instantly that these were Hermione's. Being Head Girl, Draco had learned a lot about Hermione and her habits, though it seemed that that was only one way. Draco shook his head, leaned on the black coffee table, and began scribbling something about a very strong potion that cured morning sickness. Instead of turning left, and going to her own room, Hermione turned right, opened Draco's bedroom door wide, and aimed her wand at Ron.  
"_Silencio!" _Her incarnation was perfect, as usual, and Ron staggered backwards in shock, grabbed hold of the mahogany railing, and tried to call back. He couldn't. Obviously. "Leave me alone!" Hermione pocketed her wand as she watched Ron toddle down the stairs in shame. Draco gaped in silence, and waited to be noticed. In one movement, Hermione thrust the door shut, and slumped into it, very quiet sniffles ebbing down her rosy cheeks. Draco sat with his legs drapped over the arm rests of his Slytherin coloured chair, an albino peacock feather in his hand, and his mouth open so wide that he could fit his fist in there- twice. Draco didn't know what to do; his fellow Prefect was crying at his door, and he wasn't entirely sure that she knew he was even back.  
"Hermione?" Draco waited a whole minute before tenderly uttering the sobbing girl's name. She jumped in shock, and pulled her wand out and aimed it. Her eyes were narrow and angry- as if it was Draco's fault that she'd been cheated on, dumped, and left crying in the Head Boy's room!  
"D-Draco?" Her voice was steady and full of snot. _Very _attractive. Still, Draco couldn't help feeling sorry for her. He flicked his wand once, and the fireplace lit up. He pulled another chair, identical to his, and twisted his wrist so his wand made the chair sit opposite the now lit fire. Hermione plodded over to the chair, and collapsed in it. Tears welled in her eyes again as she looked up at Draco. She tried to say something, but shook her head instead.  
"Are you okay?" Draco shifted awkwardly, and felt bad; he _knew _Hermione wasn't okay, he just felt like it was polite to ask. Hermione snorted, and looked into the fire.  
"No," she said bluntly. Honestly, Draco couldn't blame her; he'd seen tons of girls get heartbroken when they'd caught him with their friend or sister or mother or aunt or- not them, basically. He'd never been cheated on, and he'd never really dated anyone to cheat on. But still, he had an ounce of empathy for Hermione.  
"Who was it?" Draco asked, giving up on the essay. He threw the quill down on the table, and twiddled his wand between his forefinger and thumb.  
Hermione sighed deeply, "some _Muggle _in the holidays." She grunted. The way she emphasised the word 'Muggle' was very much unlike her, and Draco didn't feel comfortable with it.  
"Nothing wrong with Muggles," he commented, and started making silver sparks appear from the end of his wand. "They're just not as..." He fumbled for a word to describe witches by, but none came. He sighed obviously, "they're not as cool as you are."  
"Thanks," Hermione said softly, and shifted so she was curled up on the chair in a ball. She closed her eyes, and her breathing slowed down; she was calmer now, that was good. Draco got up silently, and tiptoed into their main living area.

There was a small kitchen installed in the large, circular room. Draco ambled over to it, and started magically making a cup of tea for Hermione. He cursed himself, because he knew her favourite mug was the white one with books on, because he knew her favourite tea was lavender and raspberry, with no milk and two sugars, because he knew that she only really drunk tea when she was really sad, and what he cursed himself the most for? Because he knew she was really upset. He carried the finished tea back up the stairs, and found that Hermione had moved from her chair, to Draco's bed. "Too far," he hissed under his breathed, but then shook his head, because he knew that Hermione just wanted company. "Here," he presented the tea to the girl, but she just muttered, and rolled over. He sighed, set the tea down on the dark-wood side tables, and picked up a book from his bookshelf. Draco knew it would be indecent to just invade his own bed- I know, the horror! But he also knew that he loved reading on his bed, and maybe Hermione would like to listen to him laugh or something? How would Draco know, he only ever liked girls for two things- sex, and an ego boost. He slid into his bed, trying not to kick Hermione, and flicked the book open.

"What are you doing?!" Hermione's voice was sluggish yet shrill, and made Draco jump. He threw his book backwards in shock, and it fell behind the bed. "You were taking advantage of me!" Hermione stood up in shock. Draco had to admit that it did look awful; in the hour that Hermione had been napping and Draco had been reading, he had turned slightly, so it looked like he was cupping Hermione in his lip. He wasn't! His leg had just gone dead, and it was more comfortable to not have to lie as straight as a ruler. Hermione had gone very pale, and her hair had come out of its neat ponytail, and was flying everywhere.  
"I was reading!" Draco went to get his book, but when he realised he couldn't, he just shrugged. He was kind of annoyed that Hermione had been on his bed in the first place, so he questioned that.  
"I don't know! I was tired and emotional!" She squealed back when he asked her. "I don't know why I'd even go on that stupid bed! I don't know what trollop's been on it!" It was clear this was about to get personal, but instead of letting Draco fight his corner, Hermione started listing. "I know Pansy has at least _seven _times! I've seen her sneak out! And heard her!" She pulled a disgusted face, as if she was about to slip into a horrifying flash back, but she shook herself free just in time. "And Luna!"  
"Luna wanted help with charms-"  
"And I _know _Millicent has!"  
"I needed to punish her!"  
"That is _gross, _Draco!"  
"Well-"  
"And I'm sure I saw Harry last week!"  
"Potter?!"  
"Yes," Hermione mocked Draco's voice, "Potter!"  
"Okay, I can't confirm or deny that-"  
"It's disgusting!" Hermione reached for her wand, but Draco cut her off.  
"CALM DOWN!" His voice boomed, and was deeper than usual.  
"Why do you sleep around?" Hermione's voice was growing back to its normal self, but still, the tone hit Draco hard.  
"Shut up," he muttered, and sat back on the bed, facing away from her.  
Hermione huffed, and Draco felt the bed dip. "you want to feel loved."  
"No," Draco rolled his eyes, "it's because I like sex and I like feeling good about myself."  
"Really?" Hermione had scooted over and sat next to Draco.  
"Yes." He said bluntly, "I like sex, and when it's done right, it's good." He laughed to himself, "and even if it's done badly, it isn't too shabby."  
"I wouldn't know," Hermione looked down.  
"Really?"  
"Nope."  
"Never had the pleasure?"  
"I didn't want to sleep with Ron."  
"I don't blame you."  
"Hey!"  
"He cheated!"  
"And you can't keep your snake in its chamber!"  
"I like that one," Draco smiled. Hermione rested her head on Draco's shoulder, and exhaled softly. "Are you sure you're alright?"  
"Can I stay here tonight?" Hermione asked. Her eyes flicked up at Draco's steely grey ones.  
"Sure," Draco was about to reach for his wand and summon a sleeping bag, when Hermione cut him off.  
"With you?" Her voice was tender and soft, as if she'd just smelled the tea in the room.  
"Why?" Draco was curious, he'd admit.  
Hermione pursed her lips, "I've had nightmares-"  
"Say no more," Draco wasn't sure if he believed her, but he knew that when she pursed her lips like that, she wasn't telling the whole truth. "Go get your things, and then come up when you're ready." Draco let Hermione stand up, and was mildly amused, if baffled, that he would enjoy her company more than any man or woman's that he'd encountered so far. "Ha," he whispered to himself when she was safely out of earshot, "talk about friend's in weird places."


End file.
